


Fancy Lady

by ghostlyfemslash



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Modern AU, POV Kanaya Maryam, bordello au, city AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-05-29 02:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6354520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostlyfemslash/pseuds/ghostlyfemslash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a week since Kanaya Maryam first saw her dancing at the bordello. Since then, she's become a fixation, and Kanaya will do anything to see her again. But can love prosper between two women in such different paths of life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1- Kanaya arrives at the bordello where she will find her destiny. If she can overcome her nerves, that is.

The bordello was not the the largest building Kanaya had stepped in front of, but its narrow exterior loomed before her nonetheless. It was meant to be discreet, and presented itself as nothing but a brownstone in the middle of the city, just like the ones that went all around the block. After Kanaya’s previous venture to this particular bordello, however, it was anything but discreet for her.The last time she had been here, a week earlier to be precise, the dusty front door seemed much more approachable. Then again, the last time she had been here she was also running through the city intoxicated with Vriska Serket. Looking back on that night, it was no wonder that such an intimidating building seemed friendly; the evening had been filled with delightful things such as mug after mug of delicious debauchery, the cold air of the city wafting between her bare legs, Vriska’s biting laugh which was, in all honesty, just as invigorating as any spirit Kanaya had participated in that night, and, most of all, _her._

Oh, wonders above, _her._ As much as Kanaya had tried to forget, it was nearly impossible. The worst part of it all was that Kanaya, in her drunken stupor, could only remember a handful of details: a red silk dress that had been expertly crafted, as Kanaya pointed out to Vriska many, many times; long, dark hair that flowed around her as a thick curtain of curls; rolling curves that contrasted sharply with her angular features, all sculpted so perfectly that any artist who saw her would willingly give up their trade; and of course, those eyes. Filled with fire and shadow all at once, her eyes had practically glowed as they made contact with Kanaya’s- a moment that had repeated in Kanaya’s mind on one tantalizing loop. This is what lead her here, to the bordello that now seemed to tower above her. 

Mustering all the confidence she could, Kanaya stepped up to the face of the brownstone bordello. She knocked eight times, as Vriska had instructed her to do. She puffed out her chest and prepared to declare her appointment; which she would have done, had anyone answered. Unfortunately, the door did not open. Cheeks hot, Kanaya bit the inside of her lips and knocked once more; eight times in a row, but much louder this time. Yet again, there was no answer. 

Kanaya sighed, wondering if it were better to give up now. On one hand, the shame of chasing after a common whore (although common was not, by any means, a word Kanaya would use to describe her) would never manifest if she did not allow it, and perhaps the fixation would wear off eventually. Kanaya would simply move on to some other obsession and continue her life as it was before. On the other hand, Vriska would be expecting details upon Kanaya’s return. And no one is more obnoxiously persistent than Vriska Serket. So, with both fists clenched tight, Kanaya knocked eight times again, even louder than before. 

“For the last time, Ms. Serket,” a steely, feminine voice said from the mail slot (which had now popped open, causing Kanaya to jump in surprise), “we appreciate your frequent patronage, but until you apologize for the heartbreak you have caused amongst our girls-” the voice cut off as two deep, maroon eyes finally recognized Kanaya’s presence. The voice sighed. “Has Ms. Serket sunk so low as to send a messenger to our door?” 

Kanaya straightened her jacket, still shaken from the sudden appearance of the eyes behind the mail slot. “I- I- I- No,” she stuttered. She cleared her throat. “I’m only a friend. Vriska- erm, Ms. Serket, I suppose -arranged a private appointment with one of your dancers. She told me to knock eight times and so I…” Kanaya trailed off, hoping the woman behind the door would catch her meaning. 

The voice sighed once again. “Are you able to pay?” it asked. Kanaya nodded. 

The mail slot closed, and Kanaya heard the sound of deadbolts unlocking from behind the door. Finally, the door was opened, and Kanaya got a better look at the woman inside. She was tall, taller than many of the trolls Kanaya knew. Her body was elegant, spindly, and well embellished by the tight, green dress she was wearing. Her thick, black hair was pulled up into a poorly controlled bun with a few dark strands hanging delicately around her face. Her age was clear from the size of her horns; they spiraled inward several times, showing the many sweeps she had survived. The sharpness of her nose, her cheeks, her elbows, her fingers, her hips- all elicited a slight gasp from Kanaya, who quickly bit her lip in shame. 

“Come in, Miss... “ the woman began, inquisitively. There was something icy about her in nature. She was not trying to be stand-offish, but the air around her radiated bitterness. 

“Maryam.”

“I see.” The woman stepped back to allow Kanaya in. Kanaya followed, and found herself at the start of a long, red hallway that she could only vaguely recognize from her time with Vriska. There were some beautiful, clearly hand done paintings of intricate landscapes and running girls hanging throughout, all in well carved frames. “Please refer to me as Handmaid. If it pleases you, there is a lounge where you can sit and have something pleasant to drink while you wait for your appointment.” Handmaid wrapped her arm around Kanaya’s shoulder and gently pushed her into the first door on the right. “What’s the name of your girl, my dear?” 

“I’m not quite sure,” Kanaya told her. 

Handmaid looked at her quizzically. “Should I be checking the record book, then?” 

Kanaya shook her head. “I know what she looks like,” she said, “she has curls that go down to her waist, and brilliant, red eyes. I came here last week with Ms. Serket for your ladies’ night; she was dancing in a red silk dress.” She then watched Handmaid’s eyes light up, and her demeanour thaw quickly as she started to laugh. “So you know who I’m talking about?” Kanaya asked. Handmaid nodded, still chuckling at Kanaya’s description. 

“I’ll see if your girl is ready,” Handmaid said. “For now, would you like something to drink?” 

“No.” 

“Then I will return in a moment. Help yourself to anything you’d like.” 

With that, Handmaid left the lounge, leaving Kanaya to her own devices. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2- Kanaya meets the love of her life, who then seduces her.

On the table of the lounge sat a three tiered pastry tray, all of which was covered in small cakes with simple, elegant frosting. Kanaya looked at them longingly as she waited for Handmaid to return. Even though it had not been an hour since Kanaya last ate, her stomach felt like a cavernous pit after all the nervous excitement she was being put through. Meeting the woman who haunted her every waking moment, danced in her memory for hours on end, and left her no peace in sleep, it turned out, was a surprisingly hunger-inducing task. 

After staring at the tray of cakes for an indeterminate but very lengthy amount of time, she finally chose one with the outline of a carnation pieced on in fondant. Hearing the long-awaited footsteps of Handmaid, Kanaya immediately shoved it in her mouth and hoped that she could swallow it all before the arrival of her hostess. Still chewing, she heard the footsteps stop, and turned to see Handmaid standing in the doorway. Kanaya swallowed, more than slightly embarrassed. 

“Your selection is ready, Miss Maryam,” she said, the faintest hint of a smirk on her painted lips. Kanaya bit the inside of her cheeks and stood up, then followed as Handmaid lead her further down the hallway. Could Handmaid hear just how heavily Kanaya was breathing, if she was breathing at all? To Kanaya, the sound was deafening. With every door that passed, each more decorated in flowers and beholding more elaborate nameplates than the last, Kanaya felt her heart descend a little further into her stomach. 

At the end of the hallway, the two stopped before the plainest door in the hallway. There were no flowers here, and only a small, wooden rectangle that read “Aradia.” Was this really the room of the most beautiful woman in the known universe? Kanaya looked curiously at Handmaid. The tower of a woman did not seem to notice. Rather, she gestured towards the oddly bare door and said, “This is your girl’s room. I will take your payment in advance.” Handmaid held out her hand, and Kanaya quickly pulled the money out of her dress pocket. After thanking her, Handmaid simply turned the handle for Kanaya and left. 

This was the moment Kanaya had been waiting for. She would enter the room and there would be her lovely dancer, standing before her in full, shapely glory, beckoning her inwards. As much as Kanaya was beginning to feel her feet turn the other way, she knew that the payment had already been made. To not enter the room and fulfill those dreams that had distracted her all week long would be an insult to not only Handmaid and her dancer, but her own dignity as well. 

And so, she opened the door. 

Even though the room’s exterior had been underwhelming, the interior did not reflect that in the slightest. The room was small, but not at all cramped. There were no electric lights in this space, only candles that barely illuminated their surroundings. From the darkness, Kanaya could make out a bookshelf covered in dusty tomes and the bones of small creatures, a desk and chair on the opposite side of the room, a wall display of ornamental whips that hung over a rack of some indistinguishable drapery, and a canopy of various fabrics tied together that descended from the ceiling above a mattress on the floor. 

More important, however, was the figure draped in red silk that sat on the mattress. With her neck prickling in curiosity, Kanaya felt the urge to step forward and touch the resting form ahead of her, just to see if it was actually a statue put in place to fool her. The minute Kanaya’s eyes reached the figure, however, it stood, as if it knew that it had caught Kanaya’s line of sight despite the thick shroud of fabric obscuring its face. It took a step forward. Kanaya gripped her hands into fists. It took another step. Kanaya realised that her feet were frozen to the floor. It took another step. Kanaya puffed out her chest on instinct. It took another step. 

Suddenly, Kanaya and the figure were nearly nose to nose. She was certain that it could feel her vibrating in her own skin. 

“Go ahead,” the figure told her, “lift up the veil.” Then, in a sort of delicious whisper, “I promise I won’t bite.” With her hands shaking, she picked up the edges of the silk drapery and slowly lifted it past the figure’s face. First, there was the puckish chin that was almost sharp in its angularity. Then there were the thick lips that had been painted red, lips that begged to whisper and kiss. Next there was the regal, slightly crooked nose that was reminiscent of queens and witches alike. Finally, there were the rust-coloured eyes that gazed all too deeply. Kanaya could feel her heart nearly jump out of its ribcage as she looked upon the face of her dancer in full, just as lively and clever as the night Kanaya had first seen her. 

“Now what is your name, lovely one?” she asked. Kanaya felt the entirety of her chest light up. 

“Kanaya, ma’am,” she answered, rocking on her heels. 

“Ma’am? Is that what you wish to call me?” 

“No, actually, I just-” 

“It’s no trouble,” the dancer said, “I do enjoy hearing my companions call out that name.” She raised an eyebrow and licked the front of teeth. Kanaya noticed herself leaning into far and jumped slightly back, blushing profusely. The dancer laughed, turning Kanaya’s cheeks a deeper shade of green. 

“Actually, I would like to call to call you by your name,” Kanaya said. The dancer opened her mouth to reply, but took a beat to figure out her response. 

“My name?” she asked finally. 

“Yes. If you will.” 

“Then I take it I will call you ma’am? I would also gladly accommodate you there.” 

“No, you may simply call me Kanaya. And I will call you by your name. What is it?” 

The dancer ruffled her eyebrows. “Aradia,” she told Kanaya, “my name is Aradia. Are you sure that’s what you want to call me?” 

“Of course,” Kanaya said. She pushed some loose strands of hair back behind her ear and smiled timidly. “What else would I call you?” 

Aradia’s face lit up, and she shifted her shoulders back as if she were about to jump into one of her dances. “I’ve been known by many names, dear,” she said, starting to circle around Kanaya."Some of my companions have called me madam,” she said, putting a hand on Kanaya’s shoulder. “Some have called me little miss.” The hand was slowly lifted to the back of Kanaya’s head, a single finger tracing its path. “I’ve also been called darling, lovely, sweetcheeks,” she continued, dragging her finger down Kanaya’s neck. “Babydoll, lady, nurse.” She took Kanaya by the shoulders and squeezed gently. _“Slut,”_ she said, letting the firm consonant at the end resonate. 

Kanaya felt her lungs falter for just a moment. Aradia only laughed, her voice low and breathy. She pressed her thumbs against Kanaya’s back in a kind of small massage, and leaned in so close to her companion’s ear that Kanaya visibly shivered. “But my favourite name to date,” she whispered, continuing to tease at the fabric covering Kanaya’s shoulders, “is mistress.” 

Kanaya jumped, and spun around to face Aradia directly. “Although I’m sure you have been called a variety of names in the past, I can tell you now that none of that will be necessary,” she said. “I am positive that I will only need to refer to you by your common name.” 

Aradia rose an eyebrow, flashing her enigmatic, red-lipped grin. “Well, I suppose that everyone has something they’re into. I imagine hearing you call out my name will be an incredibly pleasurable experience.” With her lips parted just enough for her sharp teeth to remain visible, she closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. 

_“Pleasurable?”_ Kanaya asked, taking a step back. She looked Aradia over, now noticing the closeness between her rolling hips and the red silk that was draped over them. Everything in Aradia’s posture, from the weight balanced by the balls of her feet to the curve in the small of her back to the slight tilt of her neck, began to make Kanaya’s stomach turn a little more quickly. “Oh. I see that I haven’t made myself clear.” 

“What do you mean?” Aradia said. “ Are you more into pain?” A sadistic grin spread across the dancer’s face, and she traced her pointed nails across her soft, round cheek. Kanaya became suddenly aware of the amount of whips within the room, as well as a rack of harnesses that she had not previously parsed. 

“I’m not really here for either,” Kanaya replied, pushing that thought aside. 

Almost immediately, the tension in the air dissipated. Aradia cocked her head to the side, dropping the role of seductress as if it were nothing but a cotton shift. “...What?” 

“I did not come here so we could engage sexually,” Kanaya told her companion, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. She winced. “Not to say that you aren’t attractive. You really are a very beautiful woman,” she said, correcting herself. 

Aradia rubbed her temples. “If you didn’t come here for that reason, what are you here for?” she asked. Kanaya, noticing how clearly flustered Aradia was becoming, took her companion by the hand and lead her to the mattress on the floor. She sat down calmly, and brought Aradia with her. 

Still holding onto Aradia’s hands, Kanaya looked directly into her dancer’s maroon eyes. “I wanted to talk,” she said. 

The dancer blinked. “About what?” 

“Anything, really. Do you like books? I’ve been reading a very interesting series lately.” Kanaya smiled genuinely, and pressed her thumbs into Aradia’s palms the way that little girls do when they giggle and gossip with their best friends. 

Pulling her hands away gently, she leaned forward to match Kanaya’s posture. “I don’t understand,” she said, her eyes darting around the poorly-lit room. “Why would you come here if you didn’t want my services?” She rubbed her eyes, as if Kanaya herself were a complex problem that she simply could not solve. 

Kanaya was hit by a sudden uneasiness. Should she try to console the suddenly flustered girl sitting before her? It would certainly be much easier than giving her the truth. Unfortunately, consolation would most likely demolish her chances in any kind of relationship with this beautiful, passionate, all-around lovely woman that she was still so enamoured with. If she longed for this woman regardless of what quadrant they ended up in, she thought to herself, what was the point of choosing her own pride above transparency with her future partner? So she took a deep breath, centered herself, and chose honesty. “Well, frankly, I saw you dancing a week ago and I believe that I am in love with you,” she declared. 

For a second, there was silence. Kanaya grimaced at her embarrassingly poor phrasing. Aradia, however, looked up at Kanaya from under her wild curls. “Uh, what?” she said, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. 

Realising that she had no chance of saving this interaction, Kanaya forged ahead. “I believe that I am in love with you.” 

Aradia shook her head. “No, I mean… explain.” 

Explain? Kanaya searched for any words that could even come close to describing the week leading up to this encounter. Now that she and the literal woman of her dreams were practically nose to nose, of course, she was completely at a loss. Not wanting to disengage, she held her ground, and even placed a hand on Aradia’s knee in an act of tenderness. “You see, after I saw you dancing, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You were in my dreams, my daily flights of fancy,” she explained. Aradia cocked her head to the side, so Kanaya calmly continued, “Any time that I let my mind wander, I would see you dancing on that stage. I simply had to see you.” 

After a brief moment of contemplation, Aradia’s eyes lit up with what appeared to be a new found clarity. She put her own hand on Kanaya’s in an almost concerned fashion. “Well, if we're being truthful here, I have many clients who tell me the same. They see the way my body moves on that stage and develop a fixation, which they disguise as love. Is your love different from theirs?” She looked into Kanaya’s eyes, her whole face pleated in worry. 

Unexpectedly, Kanaya grinned. This is the easy part, she thought. And it was; she herself had contemplated this question for weeks. “Of course,” Kanaya said, asserting her intentions, “I’m intrigued by your mind, by your very nature.” 

The atmosphere of the room began to feel far less confining to Kanaya as soon as she stated her claims. Her companion, however, appeared unaffected. Aradia raised both of her eyebrows and smiled dryly, making Kanaya wonder if her statement had been taken as some kind of joke that bordered on the offensive. “Ah, right. My mind,” Aradia said with an almost biting amicability. “Well, what if I told you that my mind likes to spend its days off looking through ancient ruins and collecting rocks?” 

There was no time for Aradia to initiate any deep gazes here; Kanaya didn’t even need a moment to think about her response. “That’s incredibly interesting. Why would that bother me?” she asked. 

Aradia shrugged. “Alright, fair. What if I told you that I like to pick up dead things on the side of the road?” 

“It sounds like you’re very dedicated.” 

“That I found and cleaned every bone in this room?” 

“Really? Your work looks remarkable!” 

Now it was Aradia who needed a moment to think. Her eyes did not break contact with Kanaya’s, but she was clearly more focused on her own confusion than the client causing it. Her surprise at Kanaya’s confidence (which, in all honesty, Kanaya had not foreseen either) was not at all concealed from her companion. Regaining her composure, Aradia returned her gaze to her companion’s bright, loving, deeply jade-coloured eyes. “So none of that bothers you? At all?” she asked. 

Kanaya blinked. Why would any of that be bothersome? Granted, this lovely troll was not aware of Kanaya’s own interest in sordid vampire romances or elaborate costume making, but that did not mean Kanaya felt herself to be in any position of judgement here. “Of course not,” Kanaya replied. 

To Kanaya’s own contentment, Aradia shook her head and chuckled lightly. The dancer leaned in, the corners of her red-painted lips turned upwards. “Then let’s talk” she said, sending Kanaya’s heart into a flutter, “and we can make another appointment. How does the day after tomorrow sound?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Homestuck is over??? lmao I kinda intended to finish this before the end of the source material, but I got a little distracted by endgame. With that in mind, I'd like to give my apologies to all of y'all readers for the big gap between chapters. I'd also like to thank friend Gabbi, who helped me with the pacing for this chapter. I've been working on the other chapters all at the same time as writing this, so stay tuned for more!


End file.
